The Betting Pool
by Cherie-24-Addict
Summary: Chase should have learned that you never compete against a Bauer in the betting pools...in more ways than one, it ups the ante and puts a whole lot on the line. Post- Day 2, Tony/Michelle, Chase/Kim.  Part 15 of the Quince series, lighter than the usual.


**Post-day 2, the betting pools... and multiple relationships... are heating up. In my universe, before Kim got a job at CTU, she also had a part-time internship during college. Chase (the lucky guy) is her mentor. You know where the story leads...**

**Anyway, this is Part 15 of 15 of the Quince series for my BFF/beta, Iwait4theRain. I love you to death, and I'm sorry for updating so slowly.**

**I was considering making this part of "You Love it When", but it became too Chase-centric. Not that I'm complaining...**

Chase Edmunds leaned against the doorway in Tech 2, watching the activity in the bullpen. After a few months of breaking in his partnership with Jack, he was finally starting to get used to the feel of the Counter Terrorist Unit. As usual, Chloe was typing away in Field Ops obliviously while Adam Kaufman shot daggers at her. That, he knew, would never change. But these analysts weren't short, petite, and blonde, and so they didn't quite hold his interest the same way as the woman who was.

Kim Bauer sat at her workstation, about as primly and professionally as a college student with a government internship could. She yawned softly and daintily reached for her coffee mug, taking a few sips as she concentrated on whatever protocol Michelle had given her in order to give the intern something to do. It amazed Chase that Kim didn't complain at all about the work; in fact, the way she was going, she could potentially obtain a job in her own right when she graduated from school.

Of course, making bets at work wasn't quite professional. Leave it to him to bet against a Bauer in the betting pool….

_Chase stood in front of his locker, putting away his bulletproof vest. He placed his firearm in the holster on his hip and started to lift his sack into the locker when he heard a soft voice._

_"Hey."_

_He'd know that voice anywhere. He turned around, looked down, and gave Kim a brief smile. "Hey. Enjoy your field training?"_

_She snorted. "Not really. I don't think I've gotten riddled with so many paintballs in my life." She gestured towards the tank top she was wearing, which, even splattered with brightly colored paint on every spare inch, managed to perfectly hug the soft, smooth curves she had been gifted with._

_He mentally chastised himself. One, he thought, she's nineteen. Two, your partner is her father. Not a good idea, unless you're _begging_ to be shot._

_"So I'm assuming you're not going to be applying for Field Ops when you get out of this internship?"_

_She laughed. "Well, if it means that I'd be stuck like this while you'd get away clean… which I don't understand how you managed to do… then no."_

_"Pure skill," he said, "that's all it takes."_

_"I'm sure," she jibed. Then, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "But if I could do what Michelle does, you know, being an analyst and getting the best field training next to the Bureau, I'd take that."_

_"Speaking of Ms. Dessler…"_

_Michelle rounded the corner, taking her wild curls out of the ponytail holder that was currently restraining them. She shook them out and shrugged off her Kevlar vest. She then walked to the aisle beside the one that the agent and analyst were occupying. As she began to open her locker, the director himself came into the room and opened his locker, adjacent to Michelle's._

_"Hey," he said to her. "Nice job in there. You nearly kicked my ass."_

_"Nearly?" she said skeptically. "Come on, Tony, we both know who the better shot is."_

_He chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt over the white undershirt that, while not as badly stained as Kim's, wasn't as spotless as Chase's. Or Michelle's, for that matter._

_"Yeah, I guess we do," he agreed._

_Kim's mouth dropped clear to her chest, and then she laughed silently, while her Field Ops mentor looked at her curiously. They continued to pretend to be going through their lockers while listening to the conversation in the otherwise empty locker room._

_"You ready go back to the bullpen?" Tony asked his second in command, closing his locker decisively._

_The second slammed shut, raw power feeding off the adrenaline in the room. "Ready when you are."_

_"Which would be now, Michelle."_

_She snorted. "Semantics."_

_"Let's go, then."_

_"Fine."_

_"Fine."_

_As Chase and Kim carefully made sure their backs were turned, Tony and Michelle walked down the hallway. Kim turned around and saw Tony's hand on the small of Michelle's back as he guided her out._

_When the door to the locker room slammed shut, she tilted back her head and laughed for a good minute. She looked absolutely beautiful, even with her long, thick hair flying all over the place. Still, he didn't quite get what she was laughing about._

_"What's so funny?" he asked her curiously._

_Eyes gleaming, she chuckled at him. "Dear God, please don't tell me I'm more observant than the agent that works with my father."_

_"I don't quite follow."_

_"Didn't Division make a rule against dating coworkers?"_

_"Yeah. So?" In more ways than one._

_"How long do you think Tony and Michelle have been together?"_

_He huffed. "They're not together."_

_"You don't think so?"_

_"No. From what I've heard, most directors seem to have pretty good relationships with their deputies. It doesn't mean it's unprofessional."_

_She gave him a look. "I can pin way more evidence against you."_

_"How so?"_

_"I'm an analyst. I observe," she said, exaggerating the emphasis on the last word. "It's my job, you know."_

_"Okay, then," he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the locker. "Tell me, Ms. Bauer, all of your magnificent, totally unquestionable evidence that Almeida and Dessler are sleeping together."_

_"Sure, _Agent Edmunds_," she smiled. "I never back down…" she breathed, "…from a challenge."_

_She was flirting with him. He hadn't expected that one, that was for sure._

_"Let's continue, then, before we get our asses kicked for not working," he said carefully._

_"It'll be your ass, not mine," she said knowingly, "because I'm just a stupid little intern who doesn't know squat." She sighed. "Moving on… Piece of evidence number one: The banter. I assure you, from what I've heard from analysts who have been here way longer than you have, not even my dad had that much professional banter with his female coworkers."_

_Chase tactfully avoided mentioning the name "Nina Myers" around his intern._

_"They seemed really comfortable with each other," she continued. "Really, really comfortable."_

_"In what way?"_

_She threw her hands up, frustrated. Then, her eyes lit up as she came up with what was likely to be another harebrained idea. "Put your hand on my back."_

_His breathing hitched. "What?"_

_"You heard me," she said. "Do it."_

_"What point does this have?"_

_"You'll see."_

_They were at an impasse, each one trying to stonewall the other. Unfortunately for both of them, though mostly him, Kim's stonewalling face was starting to become one that was more of the puppy dog variety. It broke his heart a little; he was more of a softy than he cared to admit. So naturally, he would be the one to give in._

_"Fine."_

_He walked forward a couple of steps and slowly placed his hand on the small of her little back. Her body was soft and warm as it brushed up against his arm, and the room seemed to hum for a few seconds._

_"Now, walk," she ordered._

_He was putty in her hands; how on earth was he supposed to refuse?_

_They walked around for a little bit, Chase guiding Kim carefully every step of the way. When they finally stopped, she turned around and looked at him, the picture of triumph._

_"I win."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"How awkward did it feel to do that?"_

_He didn't answer._

_She nodded. "Your nonanswer is about as much of an answer as I'm going to get, isn't it? But you get my point. Normal coworkers would find it awkward…"_

_Not that I did, she thought to herself. It felt nice._

_Great. Not that I expected anything different, he thought._

_"…But Michelle practically invited Tony to do that," Kim continued._

_"Well," Chase said, regaining his composure, "if you're so sure about Tony and Michelle, then I propose a competition."_

_"The betting pool," she said matter-of-factly._

_"The betting pool," he agreed._

_Kim had a take-no-prisoners attitude about betting. "Seventy, from each side of the table."_

_He shook his head. "No way."_

_"Fine," she agreed, "ninety."_

_"Seventy's looking pretty good…"_

As Chase walked up the stairs to deliver a file to Tony in the director's office, he tried to keep from meeting Kim's eyes. His cell phone started to ring. He picked up, slightly miffed.

"Edmunds."

"What's with the apprehension? Scared of losing an itty-bitty little bet?" Too bad that she had the observant eye of her father.

"No," he scoffed.

"You shouldn't have a problem," she said nonchalantly. "After all, I'm just a teenager whose dad managed to land her a CTU internship. I can't even drink; how could I possibly know anything about the lives of adults?"

"Your sarcasm is noted," he told her, "and subsequently stifled. You are way smarter than most women _my_ age."

She smiled warmly at her workstation. "Why, thank you. You're being quite the charmer today, aren't you?"

"Don't get used to it," he said, and he promptly hung up on her. Chase subsequently found himself looking inside Tony's modern office. Of course, his visitor was totally and completely predictable. They sat on the couch, discussing some protocol that he couldn't care less about. But they were doing a terrible job at keeping a professional distance. She laughed and leaned against his shoulder, and as she moved her hands animatedly during their conversation, a diamond ring glinted in the low-lighted room. A few moments later, Tony twisted the white gold ring on his own hand.

Chase refrained from showing any visible signs of shock. Instead, he walked down the stairs, the file still in his hand. He dialed the number for Kim's workstation and waited patiently.

"Bauer," she chirped.

"Guess who's taking you out to lunch today," he said.

He could practically hear her smug little grin over the phone. "I won, didn't I?" she said gleefully.

Knowing she could see him, he nodded. "Engaged, Kim. They're engaged."

Kim took in a sharp breath. "Rings?"

"Hers has a diamond, both match, and trust me when I say they look expensive."

She almost let out a squeal. "Okay, lunch it is. Just give me a few minutes."

"Pretty good, for an intern," Chase teased her.

"Hey, I kicked your butt, didn't I?"

He hung up the phone. Slowly, he looked at it, the director's office, then Kim, and he smiled. Really, truly, legitimately smiled. He could never discount the fact that this was the most interesting place he had worked at (or at least the one with the most office intrigue).

Meanwhile, knowing that the Director's feed was off, Kim turned on her headset and simultaneously called all CTU-issued phones which she knew belonged to members of the pool.

"This is Kim Bauer, Level 1, Communications. If you have placed any amount of money in the betting pool concerning Tony Almeida and Michelle Dessler, I would like said money wired to my betting account within the hour, formatted like my normal one. I won. I will repeat this, just in case you are in shock and do not believe me; I won the bet. Thank you, and I hope you have a great day."

Then, amid dirty looks, "Damn it!"'s, and "Sonofabitch!"'s, Chase walked to her desk and escorted her out of the bullpen for a victory lunch from her mentor, his hand securely at the small of her back.

* * *

**The review button squeals for TnM. Help it squeal like a teenage fangirl. Don't disappoint the review button.**


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